


restless pathetic lovers

by n4tzw0rmz



Category: Dayshift At Freddy's, Five Nights at Freddy's
Genre: Angst, Dave is not okay, Dayshift at Freddy's Fangame, M/M, Pining, Um what else, anyway um hope you enjoy!!!, english isnt my mother tongue so i hope this is readable lol, i guess, mentions of stinky pink man aka henry, someone please help him, this may become a series, vegas!!!!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-28
Updated: 2020-07-28
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:47:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25579084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/n4tzw0rmz/pseuds/n4tzw0rmz
Summary: All these thoughts and feelings, these snakes fluttering alongside crawling butterflies in his stomach... it was the same every time, like a rehearsal of that night from weeks ago.When Dave saw Old Sport's face washed by the moonlight up close for the first time.This is all pathetic.
Relationships: Jack Kennedy/Dave Miller (Dayshift at Freddy's)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 51





	restless pathetic lovers

The stars had been visible for some time now. Well, of course it was, as it was already 3 in the morning according to the little watch hands on the clock.

He doesn't sleep.

Dave felt himself sinking in the mattress.  
He had originally planned to stay up for a few hours and walk around a little ; it hadn't been too late when they - he and Old Sport- reached Vegas after all, so it was needless to say he was barely tired.  
Dave couldn't say the same about his travel companion though ; as soon as they had gotten out of the car, the tangerine man had started whining about how long and tiresome the ride was, and grumbled when Dave insisted to take him to (his words) 'the best fucking strip club in the entire country'. He eventually grew quiet after a few half a minutes.

If it were anyone else, Dave would have gone off on his own and just let them wait and rot on the side of the sidewalk. But when he saw Old Sport dragging his feet as well as the drained look on his face, Dave decided that maybe he could hold the gambling and the strippers for later.  
And besides, if they wanted to make the most of their stay, they might as well be both in good shape - that is, not sleepy, and actually enthusiast about Dave's sugestions.

So, to his Sportsy's surprise, Dave had proposed to go and find someplace to sleep in ('a sleepy sport is no fun, and also apparently very grumpy' he stated when Old Sport asked about the change of plans).

They had tried to pick a somewhat decent hotel to crash in, but there's only so much a Freddy's salary can buy ; their only option had been to settle with a two stars establishment filled with moisture and rats, which was way too reminiscent of their time spent at the cursed pizzeria.  
That fact didn't really seem to bother Old Sport though, considering how the latter had fallen fast asleep on the other side of the bed.  
And still, Dave was yet again staring with wide open eyes at his sleeping friend.

But it's not like this was anything new, was it? Staring at his Sportsy had quickly become part of his daily routine in a way he had never expected it to.  
He never thought something like this could go out of control so easily.

It really was just simple precautions at first. With Old Sport as his only way out from the hellish dumpster that was Freddy's and as his partner in crime, Dave had to make sure nothing would happen to him. So he occasionally threw glances when seeing him in the halls and kept him in his sight when they happened to be in the same room, followed him home without his knowledge, eventually breaking into his house to install a camera that would be directly connected to the monitors in his bunker...  
Oh, how he spent so many content nights watching the resting, blissful expression on his dear Sportsy's face, his own features glued to the monitoring screen.

These precautions, his original intentions, were twisting in a way he'd been completely unaware of until it was too late. Until he realized that he wasn't in control of his own actions anymore.  
Eventually, Dave started to wonder, if these said precautions had ever been motivated by anything other than his obsessions.

Excuses, excuses. He would go back and forth between the possible, contradicting causes of this behavior of his. 

The one half that proudly stated he was simply being his (arguably) responsible, cautious self concerning his dear Old Sport. 

The other that shamefully accepted the obvious. How he had let himself be fascinated, be craving of his sportsy.

How now, that orange turd could tug the heartstrings of this precendently self-described hearthless man. 

How he could make them bend to his will.

He thinks he will never let this happen. At least he hopes he has the strenght to keep that promise.

Soon however, it became insufferable, to spend his nights just... watching. There was a small sting in his non-existant heart, whenever Old Sport would snuggle up in his bed, sheets and covers all thrown around his body. Alone in the dark.

Every single night, it would come back, slithering its way farther into an already open wound. It always did. The pain was small, barely noticeable, but persistant. Way more real than the prickling in his eyes from staying up all night. Dave couldn't take them off of _him _, no matter how hard he tried.__

__Watching. That's all he ever did.  
It didn't take more than two nights for Dave to decide he had to be there in person._ _

__It just wasn't enough now. He wants to see him. He hated how every day felt like they were a little closer, only for them to be split apart so abruptly._ _

__Dave could already see it now._ _

__Another day would begin, where he and Old Sport would be together again. They would talk and slaughter and drink and smoke and make fun of the phone's stupid head. It would be bliss. And then he'd have to let go, let themselves go on their respective paths._ _

__But..._ _

__Dave wondered.  
Maybe he didn't have to wait for Freddy's work hours to see his dear Sportsy in person. Maybe he could just find a shortcut, make a secret passage between their own paths.  
A small trail directly connecting them._ _

__So that's what he did._ _

__Dave went over to his house about eight times ; though only when the night would fall and the stars would shine. When he was barely visible in between the shadows and dim lights, so very awake in unexplored, yet familiar surroundings. And there he would be, so peacefully sleeping under covers and sheets._ _

__All these thoughts and feelings, these snakes fluttering alongside crawling butterflies in his stomach... it was the same every time, like a rehearsal of that night from weeks ago. When Dave saw Old Sport's face washed by the moonlight up close for the first time._ _

__Ever since they've met, he had been trying to diminish the distance between them, carefully tip-toeing towards this obsession of his. Always craving the closeness, the sight of his orange baby's partially toothless smile, or the sound of his sweetly raspy voice._ _

__They had taken the road to Vegas, finally interwhining their paths together._ _

__Dave would have never expected to be taking that one next step. The one where they would be closer than ever. The one that would make him second guess, make him question his thoughts, his feelings, and these snakes and butterflies fucking up his insides.  
But here he is. With Old Sport lying only inches away from his own body._ _

__In the hotel room it is dark, almost pitch black, unlike in the orange man's bedroom. Dave can barely make out each feature of his friend's face. His skin is completely grey, too, so very different from the warm and lively color visible under the sun._ _

__Dave silently cursed the muted darkness for showing him how somber his love was.  
He didn't want to know that warmth and liveliness were things his Sportsy couldn't give to him. _ _

___It would be so much better to stare at you this close when the shadows can't mask the real you, the one that lies, _he thinks.__ _ _

____Dave shifted in his spot, as if to get rid of that uncomfortably prickly shiver running down his spine, careful not to awake the man lying next to him.  
He tries to relax, his back now pressed to the mattress, eyes staring at the ceiling. His legs are grotesquely spread across the bed._ _ _ _

____"If I move my leg a little to the left, I could probably touch his." A wave of thrill washes over him, along with a tinge of guilt. This is ridiculous. He shouldn't be affected by these... _things _. Not anymore.___ _ _ _

______But still, a little bit of unbothered, friendly display of affection couldn't hurt right? Hey, Sportsy, is it gay to touch the homies?_ _ _ _ _ _

______Dave smiles to nothing. Old Sport would tell him he overthinks too much. He would be right._ _ _ _ _ _

______He inches his leg towards the unknown, the skin almost clutching on to his skin. Why did he feel like he was about to get electrocuted?_ _ _ _ _ _

______His breath is too loud and hitchy. These things never mattered anyway. The world feels so real it seems fake._ _ _ _ _ _

______He is the child murderer, the hearthless. He shouldn't be thinking about this._ _ _ _ _ _

______Doesn't he remember what they do all this for?_ _ _ _ _ _

______ _ _ _ _

_______Don't you, William? ____ _ _ _ _ _

________ _ _ _ _ _ _

________The movement stops as his hand grips the sheet's fabric. His leg is heavy, his throat is dry and his mouth feels like a mixture of glue and children's playdough._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Dave's thoughts are a jumble of nonsense and contradictions, but the bathroom standing only a few steps away is like an anchor in his mind._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________He gulps._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Dave gets up as lightly as he can, but stumbles as he struggles to keep his balance. He frowns at his feet. Not only is his leg heavy, he also finds out his whole body feels as if he's carrying a bag of bricks. From the inside._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Fresh water definitely sounds good right now. He heads towards the bathroom door._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________~_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________One half of him proudly insists he is still working towards a goal, like he always had. He's responsible, he is smart. Having an assistant doesn't change anything - hell, Henry had a partner in crime too, and a great one at that!_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________That's why Henry put his trust in him in the first place ; that's why Dave must finish what they started._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Nothing else matters more than the dream - their dream, the one they shared many years ago.  
And if keeping Old Sport by his side can also help him get closer to that- no, he didn't care about the man. Of course he needs him with the escaping and the murders, but he didn't _need _him, he did-___ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________No._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Dave carried his sleepy eyes from the bathroom sink to the mirror standing in front of him. Taunting him.  
His reflection on the glass - from the grey bags under his eyes to the nothingness inside of them ; it all looks pathetic._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________He taps his naked foot on the cold rusty tiles ; a nervous response to the nasty thoughts in his head, he presumes. The ones that made up the other argument of his dilemma._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________The one that shamefully accepted the obvious. How he had let himself be fascinated, be craving of his assistant.  
How now, that old fucker could tug the heartstrings of this precendently self-described hearthless man.  
How he could make them bend to his will._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Dave won't give him the chance. There's still time to escape, run away before it's too late. Before he's completely under his partner's yoke, like some kind of animal._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________His reflection digs ugly frowns and gaps on his face ; his skin is like a sheet that has been repeatedly scrunched and unfolded.  
For a split of second, Dave can also see his teeth in the mirror through the crude twist of an angry grin, just before mecanically hurry out of the bathroom._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________He stops at the edge of the bed, eyeing the sleeping man's silhouette. Dave clenches his fist._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________He won't let this- that old fuck get in the way of their dreams. Henry trusts him. And Dave can't afford to disappoint him now._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________His posture is more relaxed and a smile creeps on his lips; his heart beats erratically fast. Their path comes to a crossroads._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Two sides battling on which half detains the truth. But for now, Dave was content letting the former win._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________He turns on his heels and runs away._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _


End file.
